


Nothing Good Comes After Midnight

by ifinkufreaky



Series: Under the Coat [8]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alley Sex, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, trashy good times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 13:10:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21253919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifinkufreaky/pseuds/ifinkufreaky
Summary: I didn’t have an exit strategy. In fact, as I stared back into his heavy gaze, I realized that I didn’t particularly want one. Wynonna thought that she could just ditch me for an idiot guy tonight… well I found my own idiot. Without breaking eye contact, I lifted the straw in my drink up to my mouth and took a good long sip while starting to ride Bobo’s lap to the beat.





	Nothing Good Comes After Midnight

Fuck Purgatory and their not-having an open container law. I would have left, after realizing my friend had just ditched me to go home with her ex while I was in the bathroom, but I had ordered one more expensive cocktail before I checked my phone and got her drunken message. While I was pissed to be left alone at the bar, there was no way I was leaving without drinking what I’d paid for.

But I could feel the sharks circling in the water behind me. It was late enough in the night that any young woman alone on a barstool was gonna get mobbed. The first two guys buzzed off fairly easily after I straight-up growled at them, and then the front door slammed open.

There was something familiar about the scruffy, biker-looking guys that strutted in. Their eyes raked over the whole place, seeming unimpressed with all of us.

I definitely knew the guy that walked in after them. Bobo Del Rey, the most fearsome revenant around. He was basically my friend Wynonna’s arch-enemy. There was no mistaking that thick, mohawk-cut hair, those steely eyes, the hulking presence. Did I say arch-enemy? More like arch-hottie.

And he saw me. His goons had failed to remember me and my associations, but the boss-man didn’t miss anything. He gave me a glare that could have meant any number of things, then walked with his crew over to an empty table at the back.

I thought that sense of ‘blood in the water’ was strong before. The back of my neck practically prickled now, though every time I turned to look over at Bobo, he wasn’t paying any particular attention to me at all. One of his boys had grabbed a bucket of beers and they were all just kind of sitting around. Creepy.

He was throwing me off my carefully composed “back the fuck off before I get stabby-stabby” vibes, too. Some sloppily-dressed man with an unkempt ponytail was sprawled over the barstool next to me, babbling and thinking he was getting somewhere.

“It’s a real anaconda, baby, you gotta come back to my place and see it,” he slurred into my ear.

I wasn’t sure if he was talking about his dick or an actual snake; I had definitely not been paying any attention to him.

When he finally began to comprehend my lack of interest, he got mean. “What, you think you can do better than me tonight? You can’t be waiting for someone.”

My eyes slipped over to Bobo’s corner, involuntarily.

“Him?”

Something snapped inside me at his tone. “You know what? Yeah. Him.” I snatched my drink off the counter, still mostly full thanks to everyone’s inability to leave me alone and let me fucking enjoy it, and started stalking right over toward the gang of revenants.

Bobo’s eyes tracked me as I strode across the room. The jukebox was playing a wild woman anthem, the beat bold and infectious, and it put some swing into my hips. I let it. Didn’t I deserve to have some kind of fun tonight? Maybe make a bad decision too?

One of Bobo’s thugs made an aggressive posture at my approach, starting to stand, but the boss stilled him with a hand. They knew I was part of Wynonna’s crew. But as I had hoped, tonight Mr. Del Rey didn’t seem to care. He stared at me from under heavy brows and waved me on to approach him with a sharp flick of his wrist.

There were no seats left empty at his table, so I had to ask. “Can I sit with you?”

Bobo looked me up and down, with a sly little twist to his lip. “Maybe if you sit on my dick,” he growled.

Another bubble of irritated energy popped inside me. I stepped right up to him and swung my leg over his lap before my better self could catch up. And by then, I was committed. Bobo’s notched brows climbed to his hairline as I plopped down straddling his hips. I’d call his fucking bluff. I ground myself against his crotch in tight, exaggerated circles. “Oh yeah? Where is it? Can’t seem to find anything.”

Bobo snarled. His hands came down on both my hips, fingers curling hard. But instead of throwing me off, he took control of my movements and rocked me against him a few times more, slower and more in time to the music. “Keep moving like that, darlin’, and it’ll hit you.”

I didn’t have an exit strategy. In fact, as I stared back into his heavy gaze, I realized that I didn’t particularly want one. Wynonna thought that she could just ditch me for an idiot guy tonight… well I found my own idiot. Without breaking eye contact, I lifted the straw in my drink up to my mouth and took a good long sip while starting to ride Bobo’s lap to the beat.

His pupils dilated as he watched me, as he felt me. His fingers slid slowly along my rocking hips. I tried to play it cool, sipping on my drink and glancing around the room, a little overwhelmed by the sizzle in his gaze. That, and the heat building up between my own legs. I’m not ashamed to say that when my clit rubbed up against some stiff fold in his pants I repeated the angle, working myself up even as I felt something start to poke against my inner thigh.

“Last call!” a gruff voice shouted over the noise of the bar. “Last call for alcohol.”

Bobo’s smile turned conspiratorial, then he looked past me. “How about a round of shots, Lou.” One of the thugs got up and pushed his way up to the suddenly-crowded bar.

“So, Y/N. You’ve certainly got my attention.” He shifted underneath me, and with a quick swipe of his hand the hard line that had been forming along Bobo’s thigh was moved to a more central location. With his grip on my hips he coaxed me to settle back down over it. I was glad I had chosen such thin pants to wear out tonight; I could feel every inch of him against my whole slit now, and goddamn did it feel good. “So, what’s your plan.”

“Hm?” I gave him a questioning look.

“Your little crew is always up to something.” He leaned his forehead in closer to my own, looking hard even though his fingers were playful along the hem of my shirt. “Is this the newest attempt to pump ol’ Bobo for information?”

A grin cracked my face. “Play your cards right, and I’ll be pumping you for something,” I cackled. Just couldn’t resist that opening. The laugh turned to a nervous giggle as Bobo’s face remained stoic. “No,” I amended swiftly, “nothing like that.”

“Good, because I don’t appreciate tricks.”

I leaned in, the spiking sense of danger only adding spice to the erotic charge in this corner of the bar. “I’m just a girl having a bad night, trying to figure out how to make it a little bit better.”

Bobo’s smile was slow and thick. “Mmm,” he purred as he brushed his nose along my cheek, “I can think of a few things that might help with that.”

I tilted my chin and that was all the invitation he needed to press his lips into mine. His beard was softer than I expected, sliding across my cheek before his tongue parted my lips. Bobo tasted like dark chocolate, charcoal, and mistakes that still feel kind of worth it in the morning. One of his hands spread across the back of my neck, holding me close, while the other slipped underneath my shirt. I responded by popping open the button on his jeans.

When the bartender says ‘last call,’ you don’t waste time.

The bottom of my shirt was shoved up over my tits when Lou came back with the shots. Bobo’s fingers were playing with the scalloped lace of my plunge-line bra. I tried to cover back up before turning to accept my shot glass, but Bobo’s hands curled over my own. “Let the boys have a little show,” he rumbled.

My nipples hardened at the dirty glory of the idea. I leaned back from my position on Bobo’s lap, letting my smile hang wide and sloppy as I twisted with my rack hanging out of my shirt and reached out for my drink.

Lou’s eyes were hungry. So were the rest of the boys, grinning like circling sharks as they watched the debauchery playing out in their boss’s lap. It was equal parts hot and frightening.

“Bottoms up,” Bobo said, drawing my attention back to him. The amber liquid flowed easily down my throat; it was shitty whiskey but when you hang out with Wynonna you kind of become a pro at knocking back cheap shots. Bobo’s lips were wet and I leaned in to lick the last of the burning liquor off of them.

The friction between our hips was getting unbearable, and between the gaze of ‘the boys’ and the fresh alcohol tingling through my limbs, I was dying to move. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” I purred into Bobo’s ear, then nipped his earlobe for good measure. We couldn’t do much more than we already had without getting kicked out of the bar, anyway.

“You got it, darlin’,” he drawled, and then seized the bottom of my ass with both hands. I felt his muscles clench gloriously between my thighs and then he was standing, with me still wrapped around his waist and squealing in delight. “Excuse me boys, I’ve gotta step out and take care of something.”

We made it halfway down the alley at the side of the building before Bobo pressed me into the wall and started assaulting my mouth and neck again. I felt the press of his erection under my suspended thighs and this time I regretted the choice of pants, rather than a skirt. How glorious it would have felt if he could just sink in to me right the fuck now.

He pawed at the barrier between us, as much as he could while still holding me up off the ground, and then made a frustrated groan. He put me down and before I could even get my balance, turned me to face the wall. One big hand slid down inside my pants, cupping my ass, fingers questing deeper between my legs. “You want me right now?” he all but snarled.

“_Fuuuck,_” I hissed as his fingertips pressed between my slick inner labia. He made a wordless noise with a similar tone as he played with the wetness I had ready for him there.

Two fingers found their way deeper, penetrating into needy flesh and making it hard for me to remember language was a thing that I could use to answer his question. I pressed myself over his hand and moaned, my own palms pressed against the cold concrete of the wall just so I could keep my balance. “Yeah.”

Bobo finger-fucked me a little harder, then slowed. “Yeah, what?” He nipped at my ear and I could see the flash of white teeth set in a smirk in the moonlight.

I squirmed over his hand. “Yeah, I want you.”

He loomed over me even more. “Want me to what.” His fingers pistoned and I let myself moan like a whore, egging him on.

“Want you to fuck me, Bobo Del Rey.”

“Good girl.” He wrenched my pants down past my knees, bit the side of my ass hard while he was down there, and got his erection of out of his pants faster than I would have thought possible. The line of his body came to cover mine against the wall, and he nipped the back of my neck like a dominant animal while he lined his hardness up against my cunt.

Bobo was thick enough that he didn’t exactly slide in easy. He kicked my feet apart, as wide as they could go with my pants still around my ankles, and pressed me to bend over until I was presented to him properly. Then he worked himself in, every inch a delicious stretch that overwhelmed the rest of my senses. “Fuck, Bobo!” I squealed, and his hand clamped over my mouth.

“Don’t call attention,” he growled, and kept his hand there to muffle my screams as he rutted into me faster, more thoroughly. It was all I could do to press my hands into the wall against his pressure and try to keep my cheek from slamming into it as he fucked me within an inch of my life.

He could hear just enough of my whimpering cries under his smothering hand to notice when I was getting close to coming. I needed only a little something more to get there.

He let up the intensity just a fraction, so he could take his hand off my mouth. “Stay quiet now, baby girl,” he said, and reached down to find my clitoris.

It was clumsy, but it was all that I really needed. I swallowed a moan or two as he resumed the punishing pace with his cock, now driving my hips into the counterpressure of his strong fingers on that magic button. My orgasm boiled up fast and hard and I held my breath for the entire duration, not trusting myself not to scream at the joy of it.

I went a little limp when it was over, gulping in air with ragged breaths while Bobo continued to rut into me. The aftershocks were making my whole body sizzle. With a sudden hiss, the villain pulled out and pushed me down to my knees.

I turned willingly enough, sure that I knew what he was after. The discomfort of bare knees on the alley pavement only added a little submissive spice to the experience. Bobo had his cock in hand, pointed right between my eyes, and I knew I only had a moment to make my play.

I figured Bobo was like most guys, eager to blast me in the face like this was a porn video. But slutty as I am, I draw the line at calling a cab at the end of the night with cum still stuck in my hair. Just as he seemed ready to blow, I wrapped my hand around his shaft and made his fat head disappear in my mouth.

Bobo made a noise that was both surprised and pleased, and in just three eager, wholehearted sucks I had him groaning through his teeth as his cock jumped and sprayed against the roof of my mouth. I held him there even when it was done, all the way through his spasming, trembling finish. I always loved this moment, knowing I’d brought a powerful man to ‘the little death,’ and for this instant in time, at least, he was putty in my hands.

When he started to pull himself out of my mouth I pursed my lips, sucking him clean and making sure no stray drops were going to dribble out and mess up my shirt. I was still holding his cum in my mouth, as was my habit, ready to spit it out as soon as the way was clear.

But the demon was paying attention. His palm pressed over my lips, fingers wrapping around my jaw. “You’re going to swallow it,” he ordered. That little spike of humiliation was like icing on the cake of this whole wild evening. I looked Bobo right in the eyes and made a big show of gulping his seed down. His answering smile made it worth it too, that smug, masculine look guys get when they feel like their cum went into places they could be proud of.

Then, in a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture, he helped me to my feet.

I almost regretted putting my pants back on. If we had been in a more comfortable location, that last little exchange would have inspired me to get started on a round two. At least to convince him to eat me out. But looking up at Bobo’s wild and imposing silhouette in this moonlit alley, I didn’t think it was a good time to press my luck.

His hand was kneading the back of my neck softly as I re-dressed beside him. Awareness of my surroundings returning, I felt my guard coming back up. Most likely I was about to regret all of this, no matter how blazing hot the encounter had been; better not to drag it out. I stepped out from under his hand, avoiding his eyes and moving toward the main street.

“Can I call on you some time?” Bobo asked, surprising me again with his softness. But plenty of tough guys got that way, after.

I looked up at him with a cold smirk that would have made Wynonna proud. “Oh no, we are definitely chalking this one up to temporary insanity.”

He stiffened, eyes narrowing. “Back to enemies again, in the morning?”

I nodded. “Couldn’t be any other way.”

He cocked his head to the side, the lines of his mohawk amplifying the wild effect of the gesture. He glanced quickly at the sky. “Got a few hours left before daylight, then. Wanna make the most of it, come back with me to my trailer?”


End file.
